


Keep it short and sweet

by sneakronicity



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clintasha Week, Drabbles, F/M, Gen, M/M, One Shot Collection, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:11:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3071084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneakronicity/pseuds/sneakronicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a catch-all post to collect up all the short little drabbles I write that don't really warrant their own fic.  Will be randomly updated when the mood strikes.  A little something for everyone!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Matchmaker

**Author's Note:**

> These are all quick fics and entirely unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.

> _A/N: This drabble was inspired by the following prompt by the lovely Katanutella on Tumblr: "After what Chris Evans said in an interview imagine Natasha telling him about all this girls and Steve saying “I don’t, but Hawkeye is kinda hot” after seeing Natasha’s Necklace, how do you think she would react?" Posted April 4th, 2014_

“What about Stacy in ballistics?” Natasha suggested, closing her car door and falling into step beside Steve.  
  
“I don’t think so,” he said, keeping his eyes forward and shaking his head.  
  
“Why not?  She’s smart, pretty, and she has a thing for blondes.”  Okay, so maybe that last one was teasing a bit, but it could be true.  
  
“She’s not my type,” Steve replied, casting a quick sideways glance at Natasha.  Apparently pushing him to start dating had become her new favourite past time, and it was starting to get to him a little.  Didn’t he have enough changes to deal with without complicating his life further by trying to add some romance into it?  
  
“Okay, then what is your type?” Natasha continued, relentlessly.  She turned a little toward him as she spoke and when Steve gave her an exasperated look the sun happened to hit the charm around her neck, making it shimmer.  He had noticed the necklace a few weeks ago, the distinct arrow charm that definitely had implications, but he hadn’t asked her about it, hoping she might offer the information as they got to know each other better.  She hadn’t, and he was tired of waiting.  More than that, if she was going to tease him then it was time to start hitting back.  
  
“Well, uh, Hawkeye is a pretty attractive guy…” he said in a sheepish tone of voice.  
  
Natasha stopped dead in her tracks, her hand involuntarily moving to her necklace at the name.  Did Steve just… wow, she had not seen that coming, though it certainly explained his reluctance to engage any of her suggestions.  
  
While she puzzled about this sudden revelation, Steve continued on a few steps pretending he hadn’t noticed she had stopped.  Really he just needed the time to try to hide his grin.  He thought he was doing a pretty good job of it when he finally turned around to face her, raising his eyebrows as if questioning why she had stopped, and trying to look as innocent as possible.  
  
She saw right through him, he noted it instantly, but for just those few seconds he had gotten her and they both silently acknowledged it.  
  
“I do believe he’s taken,” she said, her expression stating more than her words.  Steve was pleased at the silent admission, and gave her a knowing and thankful smile in return.  “But I can see what I can do.  Maybe we can come up with some sort of arrangement…”  
  
Chuckling, Steve turned and started on his way again.  A second later, Natasha was once again at his side, and for a few minutes they walked in companionable silence, but she just couldn’t help herself.  
  
“What about Brian in accounting?”  
  
Steve laughed aloud.  Maybe he didn’t appreciate having her poke at his personal life while remaining so secretive herself, but she had given him something back there, a very big something.    
  
It was a start.


	2. Clowns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There was a tumblr meme going around and my darling Stormxpadme picked this prompt: Clintasha and "Where the fuck did that clown come from?" I meant to write something fun and cracky, but this is what happened. I'm sorry. Posted July 8th, 2014.

She didn’t even wait for him to answer her knock, wasn’t even sure he would, before bursting into his apartment. 

"Clint, this is getting ridiculous," Natasha said, letting the door swing shut behind her and crossing her arms as she gave him a hard look.

"Nat, what…" he stuttered, not sure what to do with the irritated redhead that had suddenly invaded his space.

"I know things are hard right now.  I know you lost a friend, and I’m sorry for that.  I know Kate left and you feel like you have to do everything on your own, but you don’t.  You’re not alone, Clint."

Her voice softened at the end and part of him wanted to give in, to pour his heart out to her, but the self-loathing was stronger and refused to let him let her in.

"I just ruin lives, okay?  I hurt people, or people get hurt around me.  It’s a thing that happens, and I just… they’re better off without me," he replied, and instantly he saw that fire return.

"Oh, so you get to make that decision for everyone, hmm?  You get to decide what’s best for everyone?" she scoffed, shaking her head.  "I’m sorry, but I’m done letting people decide what’s best for me.  Now get off your ass, clean this place up, and… where the fuck did that clown come from?"

She was looking past him, over his shoulder into a dark corner of the room.  His eyes widened.

The shot was a silent one, but no less deadly.


	3. A galaxy far, far away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: since the last one turned dark, I gave my Stormy another shot so she picked this prompt: Clintasha and "This isn’t exactly what I had in mind." This one is more fun and fluffy. Posted July 9th, 2014

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

  
“Then you should have been more specific,” Natasha replied with a definite note of amusement in her tone.  
  
“Aw, come on, Nat,” Clint whined.  He was sitting at the foot of the bed, feet on the floor, watching her with a pout as she leaned against the bathroom doorframe.  “When a guy says he wants the Princess Leia fantasy he always means the gold bikini.  It’s never the white sack.”  
  
This was clearly not the right thing to say as her expression immediately darkened.  
  
“Is that so,” she replied, propping her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes in a look that was every inch the character she was currently dressed as.  She had managed to find a very good facsimile of the dress Leia had worn in her first scene in the first film.  Of course she had known that wasn’t the look Clint had been referring to, but as he _hadn’t_ specified, well, she felt it open to interpretation.  “Then all men are disgusting.  That bikini was a slave costume that she was forced to wear, and yet you fetishize it?”  
  
“Well, I mean, uh…” he stuttered, eyes going wide.  He hadn’t really thought about it, all he knew was that it was hot, but now she was making it sound all skeevy and wrong and things weren’t looking so promising for the sexy evening he’d had planned.  
  
“So, you either appreciate me in this or you can be _hand_ solo tonight,” Natasha finished, raising an eyebrow at him.  Clint was a typical guy, thinking with his penis rather than his head, and while it was often fun to torture him for that she wouldn’t really hold it against him.  Especially not when he was floundering and practically tripping all over himself to try to backtrack.  
  
“You know, I always thought the white dress was underappreciated,” he said quickly.  
  
“Uh huh,” she replied, entirely nonplussed.   
  
“It’s very, um, practical,” he continued.  “And classy!”  Oh yeah, that was a good one.  “Super classy.”  
  
“Right,” was the dry response.  “And you’re not just saying this to get laid.”  
  
“No!”  He totally was, and they both knew it.  “It’s… iconic. Regal, even!”  Even better!  That one had to be a home run.  
  
Glaring at him a little longer, just enough to make him squirm in discomfort, Natasha eventually pushed away from the door and sauntered over to stand between his legs.  
  
“Scoundrel,” she said with a smirk, burying one hand in his hair and pulling his head back before leaning down to kiss him.    
  
Clint wasn’t stupid enough to think it a victory, and by the end of the night the victory was certainly all Natasha’s.  In fact, when the morning light filtered in through the curtains and fell over the crumpled white dress on the floor, Clint thought that maybe that look _did_ deserve a lot more praise than it got.


	4. Chapstick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt "Let's go with Clintasha and chapstick. Because why not." for the lovely execution-empress. Posted December 14th, 2014.

"I don’t think I’m ever gonna be warm again," Clint complained, wrapping an extra blanket around himself.  Their current mission had landed them in a little outpost in Siberia until the weather cleared enough that they could move on. 

"You can be such a drama queen," Natasha replied with a good-natured roll of her eyes.  She looked competely comfortable in her heavy woolen sweater.

"I’m serious.  I think my eyes are frozen," he continued. Taking the mug of hot tea that she offered, he winced when he took a drink.  "And my lips are split in a hundred different places."

Setting her own mug aside as she claimed the space on the sofa beside him, Natasha pulled a little tube out of her trouser pocket and held it out to him.  “Here.  They’re just chapped.”

Clint eyed the offering dubiously.  “I’m not wearing lipstick.”

"It’s chapstick," she said, holding it up so he could read it.  That didn’t help.

"It’s cherry," he responded, curling his nose up slightly.

"I happen to like cherry."  Shaking her head, Natasha applied the chapstick to her own lips, and she didn’t fail to notice how Clint’s eyes followed the action.  Smacking her lips together she smiled at him before leaning over to kiss him.  His lips were dry and cracked but hers moved smoothly over them.  When she leaned back his eyes stayed closed a moment before he licked his lips again, tasting cherry.  "Sure you don’t want any?" she teased.

"Okay, so maybe a little couldn’t hurt…"


	5. Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My dear Natvsharomanoff sent me this prompt: "Ohh! Thor x Sif and style. Fighting style, or clothing, or what have you. :) ". Every once in a while I write non-Clintasha things, :D Posted December 14th, 2014.

"It is not as regal as your Asgardian garb, but I can see the appeal," Sif’s voice sounded behind him.  Thor stood at the full length mirror assessing his reflection, namely the "tuxedo" that Tony had insisted he wear.  Stark was throwing a party and had told Thor to invite his friends from Asgard and that all arrangements would be made for them.

"I do not like how the sleeves constrict my movements," Thor replied.  Flexing his arms, an expression of concern settled on his face when a very clear ripping sound echoed in the room.

"Apparently the sleeves do not like it either," Sif said, her smile evident in her voice.  When Thor finally turned to face her the smile widened at his expression.  Their hostess of the evening had helped her choose the dress she now wore, a shimmering black number with plunging necklines both front and back, and very little to the sides of it. "Women seem to have more selection here.  I was able to forgo the sleeves entirely."

"I am not sure this realm is prepared for such beauty," Thor finally found his voice again, and offered Sif his arm. 

"Do you wish me to return home?" she asked innocently.

"No," he replied quickly.  "I am glad you are here. Shall we?"

"It would be my honour."

 


	6. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this one the prompt was "Clint/Natasha, cookies" from my dear shenshen77. Posted December 14th, 2014.

"Come on, you gotta try this," Clint said, holding his hand out to Natasha, one finger covered in cookie dough.

"That better not be the same finger you just licked off," she replied, sweeping by him to rescue the bowl before he could further contaminate it.  "We’re supposed to bake these, not eat it all raw."

"But that’s half the fun!" he protested, following after her and still holding that hand out.  "It’s expected that some of the dough gets eaten.  Everyone does it."

Setting the bowl on the counter, Natasha turned and crossed her arms as if protecting it.  She tried to hold a stern expression but it was near impossible with Clint looking at her like that, a childish expression on his flour marked face.  “Okay, fine.” 

She opened her mouth, but before the batter touched her tongue Clint changed course and smudged it on the tip of her nose instead before licking the dough off his own finger again.  Jumping in surprise, her eyes narrowed dangerously.  “Oh, so that’s how it is…”

He was in trouble.

By the time the war was over the kitchen was covered in flour, their clothes and bodies were covered in dough, and they only wound up with nine baked cookies.

As she licked the dough from the side of his neck, Natasha decided that it was _more_ than half the fun.

 


	7. Napping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wonderful crazy4orcas prompted "Clint/Natasha -- napping". Posted December 14th.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep.  Their mission had hit a snag and by the end of it he had been awake and alert for forty-nine hours.  They had completed it, of course, and were buckled in on their flight home, but while Clint had fully intended to stay up the entire time, he had passed out before the flight attendants had even brought the cart around with the first drink offering.

For her part Natasha had given her head a light shake, not wanting to disturb her partner.  By the time the in flight meal was offered he had shifted and was curled up against her arm with his head resting on her shoulder.  Natasha declined the meal as well.

For the next four hours he barely stirred, and she couldn’t help but feel her heart swell at the whole situation.  The fact that he trusted her this much to let himself be so completely relaxed around her, that he was this comfortable with her… nobody had ever trusted her this much, and never before had she been deserving of it. 

Did she deserve it now?

Clint gave a sudden snort that managed to wake him up.  Blinking, disoriented, it took him a moment to realise what he was doing, but instead of pulling away quickly he tilted his head and brought his eyes up to meet Natasha’s.  Everything she needed to know was right there in their blue depths.

Maybe, just maybe, she really did.

 


	8. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Execution-Empress asked for Clintasha and Christmas, so have some fluff. Posted December 14th, 2014.

What was the big deal with Christmas?  For most of her life it hadn’t been a thing for Natasha, just something that normal people celebrated that didn’t pertain to her.  She had seen the whole idea as silly, people spending ridiculous amounts of money on food and gifts and blinking lights for one single day of the year.

Beyond the commercialism, though, Christmas was supposed to be about family, and that was something she didn’t have, at least not until she joined S.H.I.E.L.D.

Every year since Clint had done something with her for Christmas.  One year he took her skating, another to Macy’s to see Santa Claus.  He had told her it was just to watch the children, but he had secretly slipped the old man a twenty and explained she had had a rough childhood and had never gotten chance to believe.  Clint paid dearly for it later but he did manage to get Natasha to sit on Santa’s lap.

Last year he had taken her to see The Nutcracker, and while he had slept for a good portion of it himself, the rest of the time he had spent watching her and how expressive her face was while she watched the ballet. 

This year, though, there would be no silly gift like the Russian nesting dolls from year two, and no outing to the mall or a show.  This year he was stuck on the other side of the country without her.

This arrangement bothered her way more than she cared to admit.

With a heavy sigh Natasha crawled into bed and flipped open her laptop.  Only a few seconds passed before a chat window flashed up on her screen.

"About time you logged on," Clint said, grinning into the webcam.  She couldn’t help the smile that lit up her own face. "Busy at the Christmas party?"

She didn’t need to answer, he knew she hadn’t gone. 

"Turn your TV to channel five," he continued.

"Clint, the channels-" she started to protest but he cut her off.

“ _Your_ channel five.”

He had bought a tiny television for her bedroom, something she hadn’t been inclined to want before, and now she humoured him and turned it on to the requested channel.  An old black and white film played on the screen.

"You’ve never seen It’s a Wonderful Life, and that’s a travesty," Clint said.

"Clint, it’s late. I’m not going to stay up and watch this," she said with a sigh.  She just wanted to go to sleep and forget what day it even was.

"Sure you are, and I’m gonna watch it with you," he said confidently.  She watched his image move as he situated himself so he could lay down yet still be perfectly in view.  "Luckily it plays on a million different channels, so it’s just starting for both of us."

"We’re going to watch this over video chat." She stated this bluntly, like it was a stupid idea.

"Yup."

"They whole film."

"Uh huh."

"And if I fall asleep?"

"Then I’ll watch you like a creeper."

The whole thing was ridiculous and she couldn’t help but laugh, but eventually she did settle in and they did exactly as Clint said.  She had to give him points for resourcefulness.  Even though he couldn’t be with her, he had still found a way to spend Christmas together.

 


	9. Massage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crazy4orcas asked for Clintasha and 'massage'. Posted December 15th, 2014.

"What’s this?" Natasha asked, her brow furrowing as she inspected the envelope Clint handed her.

"A gift," he said with a sneaky grin.

"But it’s only Christmas Eve.  We’re not supposed to open anything until tomorrow," she protested.

"I know, and I have something for then too, but this is just… a little something I thought you might want to use tonight…"

Turning the envelope over in her hands she frowned.  “I only have one thing for you,” she said, and Clint inwardly kicked himself.  She actually seemed upset at the thought that he had done more for her and she couldn’t reciprocate.  Of course she did.

"Don’t worry, this is something for both of us.  Just open it," he prompted.

Natasha eyed him warily, his suggestive grin and his words throwing her off.  After a few more moments she gave in and opened the envelope.  Inside was a hand written coupon for one full body massage.  Honestly, it was a little more descriptive than that, but we don’t need to get into details. 

"And what if I want to hold onto it for another time?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and looking entirely innocent.  She didn’t fool him, of course.

"You didn’t read the fine print," Clint said.  He had been ready for her.

At the bottom of the coupon in very small print it stated “valid December 24, 2014 only. Expires at midnight”.  Somehow she was not surprised.

"Well, I would hate for it to go to waste…"


	10. New Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the amazing blizzardphoenix made an absolutely gorgeous artwork for New Years, so I wrote her a fic to go with it. Make sure to [follow this link](http://blizzardphoenix.tumblr.com/post/106760655734/sneakronicity-blizzardphoenix-five-four) and send her all the love because her art is wonderful! Posted December 31, 2014

 

By ten minutes to midnight the party was in full swing, and with the crowds of drunken laughing and dancing people crowding the room, it had taken Clint a lot longer than comfortable to locate Natasha.  As silly as it sounded, he was starting to get a little panicked that he might not find her before the countdown started, and it was a New Years tradition he didn’t want to miss out on, especially this year.  
  
Finally spotting her near a window as far from the party as she could be while still in the same room, he breathed a sigh of relief before joining her.  
  
“Don’t let Stark find you skulking in corners,” Clint said as he approached, a glass of champagne in each hand.    
  
“He would likely only tell me that Natalie was more fun,” Natasha replied, taking one of the glasses and sipping delicately.  She still looked elegant in her shimmering, sequent covered dress, not a hair out of place, while Clint had already ditched his jacket and tie.  He preferred to ring the new year in comfortably.  
  
“Should I be grateful or disappointed that this party hasn’t turned out like that one yet?” he said, drinking his champagne a little quicker than her.  Alright, a lot quicker.  He had never been one for sipping.  
  
“The former,” she said, raising one brow in amusement as he discarded his already empty glass.  “He just completed the renovations. I would hate for that to start all over again.”  
  
Rolling the sleeves up on his dress shirt, Clint looked back over his shoulder at the crowd when the music cut out and their aforementioned host took up the microphone to give a little speech about days past and new beginnings.  When Clint turned back to Natasha he could see the slightest crease in her brow and knew her mind had turned along the same path as his.  2014 had been quite a year, filled with both highs and lows.  They’d had their world turned upside down when SHIELD had turned out to be infiltrated by HYDRA, and they’d had to find a way to move on and start over. It had been difficult, but at least they hadn’t had to do it alone.  They had each other; just like always they had each other’s backs, and that was all that truly mattered in the end.    
  
 _Ten_.  The countdown had begun, and pulled them quickly out of their reflections.  
  
“Can’t say I’m gonna be sad to ring out the old this year,” Clint said, taking a small step closer to Natasha.  
  
 _Nine_.  
  
“I’ve never been one to dwell in the past,” she replied, finishing her drink and setting the glass aside.  In some ways it was very true.  There was a big difference between accepting the past and trying to make up for it, and dwelling on what could never be changed.

  
_Eight_.  
  
“Have I mentioned yet tonight how beautiful you look?”  
  
 _Seven_.  
  
“I believe you may have once or twice, but if you wanted to refresh my memory…”  
  
 _Six_.    
  
“You do.  Look beautiful,” Clint clarified, closing that distance another half step.  Five.  “I may never let you out of my sight again.”  
  
 _Four_.  
  
“I might be okay with that.” Her lips curled up into a soft smile and she rested her hands on his shoulders.  They had spent much of the year apart, first because of missions, and then because it had taken them a while to find each other after the fall of SHIELD.  After almost losing him yet again, Natasha wasn’t too keen to let him out of her sight either.  
  
 _Three_.  
  
“Happy New Year, Natasha,” he said, hands moving to her hips.  
  
 _Two_.  
  
“Happy New Year, Clint.”    
  
 _One_.  
  
All around them confetti burst and noisemakers sounded, but they noticed none of it.  For that perfect moment they lost themselves in each other and there was nothing but soft touches, champagne flavoured kisses, and the promise that whatever the New Year held they would face it together.


	11. Aggressive Cuddling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, inspired by [this post](http://obishenshenobi.tumblr.com/post/107791552788/otpdisaster-person-b-of-your-otp-not-letting), and the tags Shen put on it about Natasha being the 'aggressive cuddler', have a little drabble. Posted January 11, 2015.

  
When the alarm went off Clint groaned and swung blindly in it’s general direction, somehow managing to turn it off without destroying everything on the night stand. Who scheduled appointments for this early in the morning anyhow?  He hated this part of his ‘recovery and rehabilitation’ after the Loki incident on a good day, but first thing in the morning just made it all that much worse.    
  
Grumbling to himself, he grabbed the edge of the blanket but before he could throw it back a hand grabbed his wrist, knowing exactly where to gently squeeze to get him to release his hold.  
  
“Ow, hey!” he protested as the hand skimmed up his arm and across his shoulders until a single finger pressed to his lips.   
  
“Not yet,” Natasha murmured against his back as she molded her body to his, her arm wrapping tightly across his chest.    
  
“Come on, Nat, I gotta get to Psyche.  You know the doc will find some mental reason why I’m late,” Clint complained, grabbing her hand and trying to pry it away.  She only wrapped her fingers around his in return and trapped his arm against his chest.  “You’re so not helping.”  
  
He felt her chuckle more than heard it, and try as he might he couldn’t keep the corners of his lips from twitching upward.    
  
His next plan of action was to kick the blanket off, but all he had to do was move his legs and hers were suddenly wrapped around his, making it near impossible to move.  He was trying not to laugh as she practically tied herself around him in knots, but every countermove he tried she was ready for him, all the while nuzzling her face against his skin and telling him “not yet” or “so warm” or “not allowed” or, his favourite, “nope, mine.”  It wasn’t long before Clint was laughing so hard he could barely breathe and they were such a tangle of limbs that he could no longer tell which were hers and which were his.  The fact that he had started to go numb in some places from her aggressive cuddling added to this fact.  
  
When he finally made it to his appointment with the psychologist twenty minutes late, it was with a wide grin on his face that he couldn’t seem to shake.  The doctor was more than a little confused with this development, but it was the best appointment Clint had had yet, and so positive that the frequency of his visits was reduced.  
  
As he left the office he was already contemplating all the ways he could thank Natasha.  It wasn’t too late to go back to bed, right?


	12. Stand Beside Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the lovely Zarabithia's birthday, I wrote her a little Steve/Sam drabble. Posted November 24th, 2014.

Steve stood in the doorway in full Captain America costume, shield in hand, and even after everything that had gone down with the decimation of SHIELD HQ, even after fighting beside Steve and getting to know him so well over the past few months, Sam still found it an impressive sight.  
  
“Let me guess… it’s someone’s birthday and you’re making a special appearance at the party,” he quipped, grinning at Steve.  
  
“That might be preferable,” Steve replied.  “Just got the call, the Avengers are reassembling.”    
  
“Ah, family reunion, then,” Sam said with a nod.  They always knew the possibility was there that the earth would face another global threat that would require the team of super heroes to don their costumes and get together again to fight the good fight.  
  
“Just as dysfunctional,” Steve grinned, “now suit up.”  Sam was taken aback by the order and just stared in confusion for a moment; Steve’s expression softened.  “You don’t expect me to turn up to the reunion without a date, do you?”  
  
The laughter was enough to get Sam over his surprise, and he was was on his feet in no time. When Captain America himself invites you to join his team of heroes you don’t question it.  Even if he is your boyfriend.


	13. Just Being Neighbourly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the following prompt from my dear Shen: "both of them [Clintasha] living in an apartment building, not knowing each other until one knocks on the other’s door because they hurt themselves and need a ride to the ER." Posted January 11, 2015.

Okay, this looked bad.  There was blood… quite a bit of blood, actually. There was pain, and dizziness, and everything just seemed rather fuzzy, and the ground was all not level.  Worst of all, Clint was pretty sure he’d lost consciousness there for a minute or seven.  That couldn’t be good.    
  
Slipping on a pair of flipflops he left by the door for laundry runs, he grabbed his keys and whistled for Lucky before stumbling out into the hall.    
  
Nobody was home next door, and Lucky didn’t get along with the cat in the apartment on the other side of him, so that left only one other door on his floor.  _Heh, that rhymes_ , Clint mused as he approached it.  He didn’t know the person that lived there, just that she had moved in a few months ago and preferred to keep to herself.  Being of the same mindset he fully respected that and kept himself to himself as well.    
  
Leaning heavily against her doorframe he raised a hand and knocked.  There was shuffling on the other side, and he saw a shadow darken the crack under the door, but leaning as he was she couldn’t see him through the peephole.  “Hey, uh, I live two doors down.  I’m Clint.  Your neighbour?” he spoke with his face almost pressed against the wooden door and his eyes drooping half closed.  He heard the deadbolt turn and the door opened a crack.  The next sound he heard was a gasp. “I kinda fell on my head a little and I gotta drive to the hospital, so could you watch my dog?” Clint said to her chest, not for any pervy reasons but because he couldn’t quite raise his head to speak to her face.  “I like your shirt,” he finished, leaning forward a little to squint at the lettering on it before promptly faceplanting against her chest.  
  
Anyone else probably would have pushed him out and slammed the door, but the new neighbour - Nancy?  Natalie? - wrapped an arm around him to steady him and did a quick assessment of the wound on his head.  “Oh, no, you are not driving anywhere,” she said.  “Wait right here.”  
  
Leaning him back against the doorframe she stepped inside long enough to grab a few things before joining him in the hallway and locking the door behind her.  “I’ll drive you, dog and all,” she said.    
  
It wasn’t the easiest task getting the three of them situated in her car, though the dog turned out to be better behaved than his master.  Natasha, as it turned out her name was, called ahead, and when they reached the ER Clint was immediately taken in.  
  
Some time later he was recovering nicely in a sterile little room, a white bandage wrapped around his head, when she walked in.  Noting how he looked down at her feet and then behind her she smiled.  “He’s fine,” she said, pulling up a chair at the bedside.  “I have friends here.  One of the nurses is watching him.”  
  
“Thanks,” Clint replied, breathing out and relaxing back against the pillow.    
  
“I take it you’re going to live?” she said, and Clint couldn’t help but notice that she had a beautiful smile.  Hell, now that he had a clear enough mind to notice anything, it was impossible to _not_ notice how beautiful she was, all red hair and green eyes and flawless curves.    
  
“So they say.  Minor concussion,” he explained.  “Told me to buy a ladder next time I wanted to change a lightbulb.”  He looked away a bit sheepishly; it had been a pretty dumb move, and he probably could have lied and made up some macho, heroic way he’d gotten injured, but he just didn’t have the brain power right now, and he had the feeling she wouldn’t believe it anyway.  
  
“And here I was ready to put an APB out on a gang of thugs for caving your head in,” she replied, not seeming put off at all by his stupid move.  When he raised an eyebrow at her she held out her hand.  “Detective Natasha Romanoff.”  
  
“Detective?” Clint repeated, surprised, as he took her hand.  “Guess I picked the right door.”  There was an awkward moment of silence before he remembered himself.  “Clint Barton.  No title or anything.  I just… I have a little restaurant around the block from home.”  
  
“I’ve seen you there,” she said, to which Clint could only exclaim a quiet ‘oh’.  “The doctor said you can leave if you feel up to it.”  
  
“You don’t have to drive me back.  I mean, you didn’t have to stick around either.”  
  
“So I should have just dropped you off and left you here?  Not very neighbourly,” she teased, and he found himself relaxing despite everything.  “Besides, you should probably rest for the evening, and someone should watch your dog.”  
  
“He’ll be fine, it’s no big deal, really,” Clint protested, but she waved him off.    
“I’m ordering Chinese anyway, and I always order too much.”  
  
It took him a moment to recognize the invitation, but it didn’t take long to accept it.  
  
He had definitely knocked on the right door.


	14. Love at First Sight?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Written for Clintasha Week Day 1: Beginnings/His Call. Just some musings about the validity of love at first sight. Set in 616 universe. Originally posted April 11, 2016_

Love at first sight is a silly notion. How can you love someone you’ve never met?  You can love the look of them; love their smile, or how their eyes sparkle, but you can’t really love _them,_ right?  

What about after they speak?  You can love their voice, their laugh, the way they move their hands.  You can love how smooth their skin is when your hands touch, or how they look into your eyes when you talk. But does that mean you love them?

The first moment Clint saw Natasha he swore he was in love.  She was the classiest, most exotic woman he had ever seen, and from that second on he would have done anything for her.  He nearly did.

Was that truly love, though?  He was struck by her beauty and her interest in him, for sure, but what if it was something else?  Fate, perhaps?  What if he was so drawn to her because they were meant to be?  Maybe she wasn’t destined to be his forever, but she had certainly been one of the most important people in his life.

Whatever the case, whether he had loved her from that first second or not, it had certainly become love.  He saw her strength and her vulnerability, her ruthlessness and her compassion, her fearlessness and her fears.  He got to know _her,_  inside and out, and he truly loved her, and over the years it had grown and changed but it had never faded, never gone away.  If asked today if he still loved her, even though they weren’t together, even though they hadn’t been for years, he would be hard pressed to say no.  In fact, the truest answer could probably be summed up in one word.  Did he still love her?

Always.


	15. Better Left Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Written for Clintasha Week Day 4: Tokyo/Budapest. Sometimes messing with Tony is far too much fun. Set in Avengers Assemble verse. Originally posted April 16, 2016._

“What is it with you two?” Tony asked, looking over to where Natasha sat at one end of the sofa with Clint sprawled over the rest of it.

“What do you mean?” Clint asked, raising an eyebrow. Natasha didn't even look up from the book she was reading.

“First Budapest, now Tokyo,” Tony said. Natasha turned a page and Clint continued to flip through the channels on the television. “What do you two get up to on those missions?”

The two of them didn't even blink, but at the same time that Clint said “It's classified”, Natasha responded with “our job.”

Tony grinned. “Good thing I'm an expert at hacking SHIELD files.” He looked smugly at Clint. “Even the classified ones.”

Natasha turned another page. “You do know that not everything ends up in the field reports, right?” she asked, finally peering over her book at him.

Tony looked positively offended. “You mean you _lie_ to Fury?” he exclaimed.

“Oh, right, because he's _always_ so honest with _us,_ ” Clint scoffed, settling on some stupid comedy and setting the remote on the floor.

“But that information could be important in the future!” Tony protested. They all knew it was ridiculous, Tony Stark standing up for honesty and following the rules, but they also all knew that this had nothing really to do with any of that.

“Not all information is important,” Natasha said.

“Yeah, and not everything we do on missions is work,” Clint chimed in. He clearly thought he was helping, but the dirty look she shot in his direction said otherwise. “What?”

Tony, of course, was positively delighted. “Oh, so this was something a little more... extracurricular, huh?” he said in the smarmiest, most suggestive way possible.

“This was something a little more none-of-your-business,” Clint shot back. When Natasha threw him another look he raised his eyebrows and winked at her. A second later one corner of her lips quirked up in a barely perceptible grin.

“I'll figure this out, you know. You can't hide anything from Tony Stark, so why not save us all some trouble and just tell me?” Tony continued trying to needle them, and completely missing the silent exchange.

“I dunno, man,” Clint said. “You may wish you never heard any of it.”

He turned his attention to Natasha and she nodded. “Imagine if he found out about Sydney,” she said and Clint pursed his lips, earning a further prompt of “On the boat?”

Clint grinned. “Oh, yeah! That was a _wild ride,_ ” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. Tony's eyes were as big as saucers as he looked from Clint to Natasha. “Oh, and Halifax! Remember that one?”

“We don't talk about Halifax,” she said in a cold tone.

Clint held up his hands. “Hey, no, not _that_ part,” he assured her, pulling a face. “The other bit. At the lighthouse.”

She actually grinned at that, a grin that had a strangely predatory edge to it. Almost... hunrgy. That was the last straw for Tony. This was just getting creepy now. “Ha, ha, real funny. You guys are just messing with me.” They both looked at him completely innocently. “You know what? Fine, keep your dirty little secrets. I don't even wanna know.”

He left the room and the two left behind shared an amused smile before Natasha lifted her book and went back to her reading, and Clint fixed his eyes on the television again. After a few minutes he poked her thigh gently with his toe. “So... I hear there's some sort of summit of important people coming up in a few weeks in San Diego...” he said, and when Natasha looked surprised he pouted “Hey, I read too,” he said, looking away. “Or I sometimes watch the news.” Clearly not very closely, but at least he knew of the event, right?

Her expression softened before a conspiratorial grin took over. “Perhaps we should offer some added protection.”

Clint's grin returned. “Scope the place out. Make sure there's no funny business...”

“They wouldn't even need to know we're there.”

Silence fell over them again. Natasha flipped a page and Clint changed the channel, but he couldn't resist one more comment. “Don't forget your bikini.”

When they asked for leave from the Avengers a week later for 'classified business', Tony approved it without question.

He decided some things are better left unknown.


End file.
